Jal’s patience was stretched very thin. It was certain that they were missing people in the census. Each night it had to talk itself out of its angry state so it could focus on schoolwork. Each morning it meditated, trying to prepare itself for the aggravation that grew as each day wore on.
The first thing the original Aphyxian settlers had done on Iragos was measure the territory they had been assigned. They had created a land grid and used a lottery system whereby a household head could choose his or her farmland, one square kilometer per family member. As children were born, their parents could add onto their holdings. After they had grown up, were “loosed” to live on their own, some married and registered for their own property. As a result of this structure, the census had gone smoothly. Sage Elvan and Jal knew where they had been and where they would go each morning.
Haybuti was very different from the Iragos Peninsula. Farms and ranches were close together in some places and wide apart in others. Consequently, they were driving back and forth erratically. It was driving Jal nuts! Jal was convinced they were missing a lot of the population. It had shared its thoughts the third week in. Sage Elvan had listened attentively, then told Jal that it didn’t matter if they missed a few residents. Jal had respectfully disagreed, pointing out that inaccurate reports would later impact any policy decision the data was used for. Jal’s opinion was duly noted, and the process continued, unchanged.
One day, a month into the operation, Sage Elvan introduced itself to a farm owner and Jal looked around. A group of men were working with cattle in a pen. Jal saw motion in the distance and shaded its eyes. It looked like a second group of people was near the top of a hill, but Jal couldn’t tell what they were doing.
Sage Elvan motioned to Jal, and as the sage went through the census questions, Jal recorded the answers. They talked about the size of the property, whether the farming operation was private or corporate, and what types of crops were grown.
“How many people live on the property?”
“What d’ya need to know that for?”
“We’d like to know how many people are supported by what you’re doing.”
The property owner scowled. “There are forty-two persons on the property. There are six family members.”
“How many androids are there?”
“Fourteen.”
“Number of employees?”
“Eight.” As the man listed their names, Jal wrote them down.
“There are fourteen slaves, Jal.”
“Yes, Master.”
“No, there are not!”
“I apologize. How do the other fourteen people make a living? Do they work for you and receive a share of the crop at harvest time?”
“No.”
“Do they work for you part-time and care for their own section of property part-time?”
“No.”
“Are some of them apprentices?”
“Yes. Four.” He listed off their names.
Sage Elvan glanced at Jal. It stood waiting for instructions. There were only two categories left; slaves and itinerants.
“Wjerl, are these ten people members of your household?”
“No.”
“So, they’re itinerant workers.” Sage Elvan concluded, looking around.
'No, they're not."
“Where are they housed?” Wjerl didn’t respond. Sage Elvan’s curiosity was piqued. “Where do they receive their meals?”
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Wjerl shrugged. “Wherever they happen to be working.”
“I’d like to talk with them.”
“Why?”
“I’ll get their names and information from them. That way I won’t take up any more of your valuable time.”
“Alright. See that path? Follow it around the buildings. They’re cutting the crop in that field back there.”
A few minutes later the two Stafriez were talking with a broad-shouldered man who wore a tattered shirt and jeans that were in shreds. Sage Elvan introduced itself, told the man why they were there, and asked for his help.
“Did you talk to Master Wjerl?”
“Yes, he knows I’m here. What’s your name?”
“Ewi.”
“Can you tell me who the others are?” Slowly the man identified each person and Jal wrote down their names. “Where is your home?” The man looked down and didn’t respond. Sage Elvan glanced at his bare feet and asked, “Do you have a place to sleep?” He pointed to the ground. “Where do you prepare your meals?”
The fellow pointed to a long box that stood above the ground about a meter. “He pours our rations into here.”
“Rations?”
“I need to get back to work. If I’m not working when he returns, he’ll whip me and cut my rations.”
“What are the rations that you get?”
“That.” He pointed to a container of grain. Sage Elvan drew the big man into a conversation about where he was born, and how he came to be working there. “I have to get to work. I want to eat tonight.”
After thanking him, they went to the speeder they were using. After they had gone a few kilometers from the group of buildings, Sage Elvan found a group of trees and parked the speeder in the shade.
“Jal, I want you to open a new document and write down what you just saw and heard. Make it as close to the exact words spoken as you can.”
As Jal wrote a short narrative, Sage Elvan spoke to Taryn. It stood by the speeder and looked at Jal. “Do you understand what just happened?”
“There are ten people who don’t have a home to sleep or cook their meals in. Wjerl puts their food in an animal feeder.”
“They are slaves, Jal. He doesn’t pay them. He doesn’t provide shelter. You saw their clothing. You heard him say that if he didn’t get to work, he would get whipped. If he wants to eat, he must work. Copy the list of names into the slave section and erase it from the ‘Itinerant’ category.” Jal did as it was instructed.
“Jal, open the map and click on our last registered location. Copy those latitude and longitude numbers. Paste them at the bottom of the document you just wrote.” Sage Elvan took the tablet, signed the document, then wrote a brief message and pressed send. “I hope those people are still alive when the authorities get here. They are living in absolute poverty. They have no protection Inside a building from the wind, rain, or snow or even adequate clothing. They are working for someone else but getting nothing but food rations in return. If that man decides they haven’t done enough work, he withholds their food.”
Jal remembered the night that Obbe proposed to Haerm Bron that they should keep it as a slave. “Haerm said that many slaves work long hours and die by the time they’re five. They have no hope. He said to have respect for everyone. He claimed that they’d worked hard to keep all us children alive, give us education and a future.” Jal took a deep breath. “Only a few days later, they kicked me out. This is what it could have been like for me.” It turned away from Sage Elvan.
“Jal-”
“But Eiske helped me! Can we help them, Jan? Is there something we can do?”
“We’ve done what we could, Jal. After Taryn brings us the meal, and we eat, we need to go on our way. We need to leave this area, even though we’re not done today.”
“Why?”
“Because Protectorate officers will come. They’ll remove those slaves, and they will publicize that fact. There may be fighting, and since we initiated the investigation, we may become targets for people who believe they have the right to keep slaves.” Jal still didn’t understand. “It is one thing to have a servant, provide food, shelter, and clothing for him or her, and an opportunity to better itself. It is another thing to have a slave and subject it to neglect and abuse until it dies. That is heartless and barbaric. The Protectorate doesn’t want residents on this planet who are like that.”
“What will happen to Wjerl and his family?”
“I don’t know. He may be allowed to stay but would be checked on regularly to make sure there are no more people brought in as slaves. He could be put in lock-up. He could be asked to leave the planet.”
“Why did the Protectors let that happen?”
“I don’t know.”
After the noon meal, Sage Elvan pushed the speeder to its limit, and they returned to Direga. On the way, Jal said to him, “Where do slaves come from?”
“What do you mean?”
“Those slaves weren’t part of the family, so they weren’t born there. If it was important to keep them, they would have been taken care of better, right? So, I’m guessing that Wjerl doesn’t care if they die. Either he brought them to his farm from somewhere else or they were passing through and he captured them?”
“They could have been born there,” Jan suggested.
“Ewi was bigger than Eiske is. He couldn’t have gotten that big if he only received rations of agharli.”
“You’re right, Jal. The slaves came from somewhere. It’s likely that they were bought at the docks of Kat.” It glanced over at Jal’s solemn face.
“It’s so hard to believe there are beings that are Protectors.” Sage Elvan was startled by the change in subjects. “I think if Vitos were real, he would have never let something like this happen. Maybe the Protectors got old and died.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Maybe someone or something killed them.”
“Why do you say such things?”
“In your book that I’m reading, Vitos is very clear about what’s acceptable and what’s not. If he were around, I don’t think those people would have slaves at all.”